


Some postman is grooving to all our love letters

by Littykitty



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Compulsory Heterosexuality, Eddie Kaspbrak Has OCD - Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Established Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Recreational Drug Use, Richie Tozier Has ADHD, Slow Burn, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, Stoner Richie Tozier, but not really slow burn, it just takes 8 chapters for them to get naked, new england slang as presented by a wisconsinite, the NINETIES
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-01 14:34:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20816750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littykitty/pseuds/Littykitty
Summary: Dear Eds, I'm so lonely all the time. Everyone is gone. It would all be okay if I still had you. I like to think I still have you at the other end of this letter. Please write me back.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of self harm
> 
> My head canon is that Richie actually has a pronounced Mainer accent so you can read him that way if you like.
> 
> Hope you like run on sentences :)
> 
> This fic was formerly titled 'Write me a letter, don't forget.' I changed it to a presidents of the united states song.

Two years had passed since Eddie moved away. From Richie Tozier’s point of view, two years had passed since Eddie was _ taken  _ away.

Sonia Kaspbrak had snapped or something one day, packed up the station wagon, and taken Eddie to Queens. She neglected to inform her son of this news until there was just one week to countdown before they left Derry. She watched him run, sprinting, down the street, his sneakers striking the pavement and making a sound like a rapid heartbeat. She knew he was carrying their “bad” news to his friend, Richie Tozier. That evil boy. She let Eddie go. They would be rid of that evil, _ evil _ boy and his  _ evil _ intentions soon enough, and protesting at this point would do no good. It would only drive her Eddie-bear away from her, and then what would be the point of moving to New York? 

Eddie found Richie in their dirty little clubhouse, mercifully alone, curled up in the hammock, a comic book tucked up under his chin as he snoozed. Richie was usually the only one in the clubhouse these days. Most of their merry band of losers had moved away already. It was just the four of them left, Eddie, Richie, Stan, and Mike. Stan was always busy, eagle scouts and his duties at the temple, bird watching, SAT prep classes, Matheletes, cross country, and his part- time job at the nursing home filled his days. The idea of spending a valuable hour or two in a hole in the ground listening to Eddie and Richie bickering was ludicrous. Mike was always busy on the farm, he’d grown to be so big and strong at 16 years old, and his role there was now more vital than ever. He had a part-time job too at the Derry public library, and that seemed to eat up the rest of his spare time. Richie had a part-time job too, at the Aladdin theater, but he hardly ever seemed to work, preferring instead to follow Eddie around when he was allowed to, and failing that, he hung out at the old clubhouse like it was his own apartment. Eddie was pretty sure that nights not spent climbing through Eddie’s bedroom window - then under his covers, then kicked out to take a shower before being invited back to bed- were spent here in that hammock. He’d asked if everything was okay at home, and Richie promised him that things were just fucking fine OK, he just felt weird being there. 

So here in Richie’s little hideout, Eddie found him. He climbed into the hammock on top of the other boy. They were too big for it now, Richie seemed to be nothing but long spider limbs and glasses and Eddie had grown too, no really he swears. But still he climbed right in and buried his face in Richie’s chest and he sobbed, loudly and panicking. Richie stirred from his sleep, immediately embracing Eddie when his noticed his distress. Richie caught the quick jumble of words that bubbled out from Eddie’s mouth, and soon found himself in a similar state. They held each other tightly that night, and stayed together in the little hammock, kissing and crying and reminiscing. 

“I’ll write to you every day, Eds. I promise you that, and then when I’m 18, I'll come and find you, and we’ll get our own place, I-I’ll work more, and I’ll save up, I’ll even quit school and get a second job and I’ll save you from your fucking mother, and we’ll be together again. I  _ promise. _ ”

He sniffled and his face contorted into a sob, he pulled his glasses off his face and hid his face in the crook between Eddie’s neck and shoulder. 

“Please don’t forget- Eddie- don’t forget me, or us-” 

It was clear what he was afraid of. One by one Beverly, then Bill, then Ben moved out of Derry. They all sent letters at first, made phone calls. Beverly had made it to three long letters, then two post cards, before all correspondence had ceased. Ben had made a few desperate calls to her, long distance, and been frustrated when she seemed so confused over the phone, unsure of how she’d known Ben and when they’d last seen each other. It had only been four months. 

Beverly had made it the longest it turned out, Bill and Ben would only end up sending a postcard each, and then one letter apiece before seemingly disappearing off the face of the planet. 

Mike had decided instantly that it must have been the clown. 

No one argued. 

Eddie curled tighter to his best friend - no- more than that- “ I won’t- I mean, I don’t want to forget you Rich. I don’t know how I ever could, but the others-” He trailed off, Richie knew what he was saying. He sobbed again. 

Over the next few days, Eddie and Richie did their best to fuse themselves together. Maybe if they could, Sonia wouldn’t be able to take Eddie without Richie. No amount of kissing or cuddling seemed to work however, although sleeping naked, or near enough, pressed together under Eddie’s comforter in the sweltering July night, sweat binding their bodies together until it was painful almost to separate. That seemed to almost come close. 

The week sped by. Eddie worried that Richie would become dehydrated, he’d never seen him cry so much. He brought him Gatorade and watched him drink it, all of it, before downing one himself. He sat next to his boyfriend - was that the right word? 

“Richie, please, I don’t want you to do anything… drastic. Because of this. I- Just please take care of yourself, since I can’t be here to do it for you.” He took Richie’s hand, and let his fingers ghost over the little raised, white lines on Richie’s wrist. 

Richie told Eddie once, curled up in this same bed, when Eddie had found the fresh cuts. At first he’d claimed that he was just curious what it felt like, the cuts were shallow after all. But upon seeing the look Eddie was giving him, he hung his head and admitted, “ Everything is so… chaotic, and I’m annoying and stupid and my brain doesn’t work right, and words just come out of my mouth and as if there wasn’t enough wrong with me, I had to go and be a fa-”. He stopped himself. “ I won’t do it again, I promise.” Eddie had encouraged him to go to a doctor then, and after that he reminded Richie to take his medicine, he set a special alarm on his digital watch, and it felt good to take care of his b- of Richie. One Prozac, one Ritalin, one kiss. 

“I don’t do that anymore,” Richie assured him, “ and I promise to take my medication  _ mommy _ ” He gently mocked Eddie. 

“Fuck you.” he smiled and pressed a kiss to Richie’s forehead. 

“Fuck you too.” They didn’t say  _ I love you _ , they said  _ fuck you _ . As a rule. 

Their last week was up. They stood next to the Kaspbrak station wagon, Stan, Mike, Richie and Eddie. Mrs. Kaspbrak sneered at them the whole time, but she kept her distance, she had won the war, the last battle was nothing to worry about. They each hugged Eddie. Richie held him longest and tightest. They all promised to write, Eddie promised to call as soon as they got to Queens. Richie gripped a scrap of paper in his right hand, it had Eddie’s new address scrawled on it. He couldn’t lose it. 

Sonia called that it was time to go. Too sweetly, like she didn’t know what she was doing. 

Eddie smiled at his friends, his best friend in particular, the others didn’t know what they shared, and he cursed this, he wanted to climb Richie and kiss him and hold him tight and sob and admit his love. But they didn’t know, he’d never even told Richie that he loved him. So he just smiled bravely. 

“Don’t forget your medicine.”

_ Don’t forget me. _

His mother hollered again and obediently, he got into the backseat of the car. He wasn’t allowed in the passenger seat, too dangerous. The station wagon pulled away from the curb. Richie followed it, a staggering trot first and then a full on sprint as they picked up speed. He reached out as if he would pull Eddie from the car, if only he could reach. Eventually the car was too fast, and several years of cutting gym, smoking weed, and surviving off greasy burgers and fries caught Richie and pulled him down to his knees in the middle of a residential street. 

His glasses fogged with tears and he couldn’t make out the station wagon as it rounded the corner at the end of the street. 

_ He’s gone  _

His friends caught up with him, and hefted him up to his feet, they rubbed his back and led him towards downtown, they’d spend the night trying to cheer him up. Movie tickets and milkshakes. It didn’t do much for him. 

Later that night, and every night for a week and a half, he’d climb up to the window that used to be Eddie’s. He’d slip inside the empty room and lay face down on the carpet. He’d savor Eddie’s lingering scent. He thought about what Eddie would say.  _ “That’s gross do you know you’re breathing in basically like, my skin flakes right now, you’re gonna have like, dust bunnies in your lungs and you’re gonna get mesothelioma you know. So I’m just saying-”  _

He relished Eddie’s skin flakes.

He began to write. Every day, a little bit. 

_ <strike> Dear Eddie, I miss you so much, my heart aches for you, I love you  </strike> _

<strike> _ Dear Eddie, How do you like New York? I hear its wicked dirty there, and the air smells like garbage. You're probably loving _ </strike> _ i _ _ t _ <strike> _ because it smells just like your mom. HA.  _ </strike>

_ Dear Eddie, Derry sucks without you, It sucked before but It didn't bother me as much then. I<strike> broke into your old house so I could sleep on your carpet </strike> Do you think your mom will ever let you visit me? My guess is probably not, I think she moved you all the way there to keep you away from my poor influence. I miss you. Stan and Mike miss you too, but I miss you the most. I realized I don't have enough pictures of the two of us together. Send me a Polaroid sometime, Ok? <strike>You can even send me nudie Polaroids.</strike> It would be so good to see your cute face again. I picked up a bunch of shifts at work, it helps me miss you less, and I'm saving up. Maybe I can come down to visit you instead. Mommy can't stop me from doing that.  _

It was hard for him to focus for a long time but if he wrote a little bit each day, at the end of each week he had a decently thick letter to send to Eddie. He’d decorate the letters with little hearts, and other doodles if he got distracted, then he’d carefully copy the address Eddie had given to him onto the envelope. He’d press a kiss to the envelope before slipping it into the blue public mailbox, then he’d roll his eyes at himself. 

He did this every week for two years. 

He sent 96 letters to Eddie Kaspbrak. 96 letters to Mr. Edward Kaspbrak at  10921 167th St, Queens, NY 11433. He’d sent pictures and packages filled with little gifts, comic books, snacks, a funny coffee mug, an ugly shirt that Richie had outgrown. One for his birthday, one for Christmas, one for Valentine's day. 

Richie Tozier never got anything back. 

The remaining losers hadn’t heard from Eddie since he called them upon landing at his new home. He’d been tired and weary, and he’d asked to speak to Richie alone, off of speakerphone. He’d asked Richie,  _ Did you take your medicine? Do you miss me? I miss you _ . He’d paused for a long moment and Richie almost thought the call was disconnected before he heard Eddie, whispering directly into the receiver. “ _ I love you, Rich.”  _

Richie had gaped, his mouth opening and closing like a particularly stupid fish. 

Eddie continued at normal volume, apparently deciding he didn’t have time to wait for Richie to reply. “Well I gotta go Richie, bye… Don’t forget.” He heard a click and then the dial tone. 

He never called again. 

Over two years he wrote so many letters, he detailed how much he loved Eddie. He told him exactly how he felt, what Eddie meant to him. He made plans to come and find him after graduation. He promised they’d make love and, they wouldn’t be afraid, and they could have a commitment ceremony and buy a condo in palm springs and adopt a fucking pomeranian and he  _ promised _ that he would make Eddie  _ so fucking happy _ if it was the last thing he ever did. When that didn't seem to work, he insulted him, made jokes about fucking his mother. He wrote to his mother telling her how much he wanted to fuck her. Just like the old days, anything for a response. 

_Dear Eddie, My sister's getting married. Its like a whole thing I guess. She barely knows this guy but Ma's practically busting a nut planning this shindig. Wonder if she'd be so happy planning our wedding. Will you marry me Eds? I'm saving my maidenhood for you. Come back from Queens and make an honest woman of me. _

_Eddie my love, I await your letter with baited breath, yet I fear it shall never come, I doth write to you every fucketh day, and yet no word has arrived since you moved down yonder. howeth should I hope to survive these harrowing nor'easters without thou. I was counting on your sexy letters to warm my nether regions. Alas without your letters, my dick might fall off. _

_Dear Eddie, I got a B+ on my English final, your trashmouth might just make it to college yet. Maybe if I get into college, your mom will finally approve of me. you know, beyond her sexual approval. What do you think I should major in? Gynecology? HA HA HA. Just kidding, you know I'm only interested in Kaspbrak vaginas. Write me back and tell me how gross this letter is. Better yet, send me a picture to prove that you don't have a vagina. Call me an asshole. Tell me to go fuck myself. Tell me to fuck you. Threaten me with a good time, go ahead. Please? _

_Dear Eds, I got promoted at work, seems actually showing up can really get you places. Did mother let you get a job there? Doesn't matter if she did. I'm pulling the big bucks now, 6 dollars an hour. I'll buy us a great big house yet. _

_Dear Eddie, are you a proper New Yorker now, too good to write to your old fling? If you are a proper New Yorker, you're the finest kind. I miss you. _

_Dear Eddie. I love you so much. _

He never put a razor to his wrist again, he took his medicine on time, every day, he worked hard at school and at the Aladdin, he quit cigarettes and cut back on weed, he drank water. he ate a vegetable every once in a while. He told Eddie all of this in his letters He wanted him to be proud. He didn’t want him to worry. 

The thought of Eddie reading his letters and beaming with pride was enough. That thought motivated him. It comforted him when Stan too moved away and forgot him, and Mike became too busy with his two jobs and his new girlfriend.

_ Dear Eds, I'm so lonely all the time. Everyone is gone. It would all be okay if I still had you. I like to think I still have you at the other end of this letter. Please write me back. I need you. _

It comforted him when his boss called him stupid and lazy, and when his parents got a divorce, and when he didn’t get into any of the schools he’d applied to in New York. 

_ Eddie, I didn't get that new promotion. How do they expect a person to live on 6 dollars an hour. Rand called me a numb space waste. Hes the numb one, I've been working so hard. It's not my fault that sometimes I get distracted.  _

_ Dear Eddie, Ma and Wentworth are getting a divorce. Called it. Ha Ha. They're selling the house. I have to get my own place. I told Mike but he was kind of a dick, he just said 'at least you still have parents'. I mean. Okay maybe I was the dick. I don't know what to do. Ma's been crying a lot.  _

_ Eds, I applied to NYU and Columbia and Queens College. Keep your fingers crossed babe. It's really happening, I'll get to see you soon! I miss you so much. I think about you every day. I bet you got wicked hot since you left. The things I've wanted to do to you... Get ready.  _

_ Dear Eddie, I didn't get in.  _

Eddie never wrote back but Richie knew he must have his reasons, and anyway the writing was what helped. As long as Richie could write him letters, Eddie still existed. As long as one of them remembered. Their love still existed. 

He kissed the back of the last envelope before dropping it in the blue mailbox in downtown Derry, Maine. Richie then turned and got in his rusted red convertible, and he drove until Derry existed only in his rear-view mirror, and then not even there. And then until the entire state of Maine disappeared in his past as well. 

He smiled to himself and thought of Eddie. 

400 Miles away, Sonia Kaspbrak picked a letter out of the mail. The writing on the front was sloppy and unrefined. Richard Tozier. He’d been sending horrible pervert mail to poor Ever since they came to queens. She’d read a selection of the letters. Horrible pervert homosexual letters. She would never let Eddie’s innocent eyes see. Calmly she pulled the handle for the attic stairs, they screeched as the ladder unfolded. Groaned as her weight tested the metal rungs. She found the trash bag tucked just beyond the mouth of the attic and chucked the latest letter inside. She felt confident Eddie would never find the letters up there. 

He was terrified of spiders. 


	2. Chapter 2

“Well I gotta go Richie, bye… Don’t forget.”

Eddie hung up the phone. His heart thumped in his chest. _Oh god I wait ‘til now to tell him I love him? _He thought of all the times he’d sneered and told Richie “Go fuck yourself” because he’d wanted to say “I love you”. 

He thought of the time Richie’d spat back “Fuck me yourself you coward!” Eddie smiled to himself, remembering how that incident had led to their first kiss. 

“What are you smiling about Eddie-bear?”

He jumped, his mother had seemingly appeared out of thin air at his side. _How long had she been standing there? _

“Nothing Mommy! I was just calling my friends to tell them I got here okay. That’s all.” 

She frowned and reached out a hand to move a lock of his hair back into place from where it had fallen over his freckled forehead. 

“Don’t you think this is a good opportunity to make new friends? Friends who will be a good influence on you Eddie baby? You and I both know, none of those old friends of yours are really going anywhere in life, don’t we? But here in New York there are so many well-bred young men from well-to-do families. I know you don’t realise it now but those contacts could be crucial for your future career. The only person that Tozier boy can connect you with is his drug dealer.” 

Eddie thought about how she was the only one pushing drugs on him. He frowned. 

“Ma, you don’t have to give Richie such a hard time, he’s not that much of a troublemaker.”

“Don’t you call me ‘Ma’ Edward James Kaspbrak. I know I raised you to be more respectful than that!” 

“Sorry Mommy. But really, Richie’s not a drug addict, I swear!” _Weed doesn’t count. _

She sucked her teeth and frowned at him. “Well if he’s not on drugs, then he must just be a very dirty boy, that skunky smell doesn’t come from nowhere. So either he’ll corrupt you with his filthy habits, or he’ll make you sick with God know whatever bacteria is growing on him. Is that what you want, Eddie baby? 

He sighed and looked down at his sneakers. _Yes. _“No Mommy.” 

She smiled and tucked her hand under his chin, “Good boy, anyways I don’t want to see too many calls to Derry on our phone bill. That’s long distance you know, and I worked so hard for us to be able to live here and give you the best opportunities possible. We just don’t have the money baby.” 

Eddie could feel hot tears building behind his eyes. He knew the real reason she’d moved them all the way down here. “Okay, Mommy.” he said to his feet. 

“You can call next weekend if you’re good. Isn’t that nice?” 

“Yes Mommy.” 

  
“Good boy.” She clucked at him before waddling off to set herself down in the tired chair. The first thing they’d moved in upon arrival, followed shortly by the TV. She immediately began complaining about how taxing the drive had been, and could Eddie be a dear and start bringing the boxes in?

He climbed the stairs to his new bedroom and set to work unpacking the few boxes he’d been allowed to bring. They were mostly clothes and books. There was only one box, neatly marked _Eddie’s toys_. She’d insisted on going through every box herself. She’d labeled them all herself too, Richie had gone bananas when he saw the box labeled _Eddie’s Underpants_. She seemed to think this would prevent him from bringing any unapproved items into their new lives. He dug through the toys box, way down at the bottom he’d hidden a film strip from the photo booth at the Aladdin. It was tucked like a bookmark into his copy of _ The Lord of the Flies. _

It was him and Richie. Together. They were 15 in it, just after they’d kissed for the first time. Four little black and white photos and they were kissing in all but one. Richie’s hands cradled Eddie’s head, and their mouths were smashed together so enthusiastically that the cartilage of their noses bent, and Richie's glasses were knocked askew. They’d been watching_ Encino Man_ of all things and God something to do with a combination of Brendan Fraser (_Who just did something to Eddie okay?_) and Richie sitting so close, hand on his bare thigh, stroking the new hairs he’d grown over the winter… well. Richie noticed the tent in his little red shorts before he did. He’d stood up abruptly, nearly spilling popcorn everywhere, and yanked Eddie with him out into the lobby and into the photo booth. 

His lips were on Eddie’s immediately. 

They’d kissed for a while, quietly and dangerously, before Eddie’s brain caught up with him and he figured they might as well complete their ruse. He slipped a quarter into the machine, and resumed devouring Richie’s face. 

They managed to actually pose for the last picture, wide smiles, ruffled hair, disheveled shirts, and thank God for black and white photography, for their faces were both flushed bright scarlet. 

Eddie’s still never seen the end of _Encino Man. _

He smiled at the memory, and palmed himself through his jeans before rising to his feet and taping the filmstrip behind the headboard of his bed, where Sonia would never find it. 

He couldn’t wait for next weekend. He already missed Richie so fucking much. 

After about three hours of tossing and turning that night, Eddie rose from his bed in a huff. He stumbled down the hall to the little bathroom and winced when the light came on. He flicked the switch on and off one more time, then once more, and that made him feel better. He pissed quickly then washed his hands thoroughly, counting to twenty once, twice, three times before returning to his bedroom. He dug through the _Eddie’s toys_ box again, pulling out a notebook and a pen. He flopped down onto the floor and tucked his legs underneath himself. 

_Dear Richie, This has been the worst day of my life. My mom made us listen to gospel music the whole way down east until we left Maine, and then near Boston some mass-hole nearly wrecked our car and we could’ve realistically died. I asked mom to let me drive part of the way, because she was bitching so much about the drive, but she said I was too new at it so I would probably kill us. Honestly I think she’s the one that needs the inhaler, she was gasping so much whenever someone changed lanes. Our house here is okay, it’s even smaller than the one back home and mom said she pays twice as much for this one. Its clean at least though, and at least we don’t share a wall anymore. <strike>Maybe I can finally jerk off in peace for once</strike>. I already got harassed by our Guido neighbor when I was unloading the car. He read our plates I guess and he called me a twinky little lobster boy. Which is just so original I just about pissed my pants laughing at that one. Ha ha ha. I don’t like it here. I miss you. Mom says I can’t call ‘til next week, she says we can’t afford the long distance charges. I don’t know how to sleep here. It’s too loud and I keep looking at the window waiting for you to climb in. But it’s a different window and the wallpaper’s pink here instead of green. Also I don’t think the screen opens. I wonder what you’re doing right now, and I hope you’re not too sad. It broke my heart seeing you run after our car. _

He put the pen down on the floor and wiped his hand over his leaky wet eyes. He sighed heavily. He was so aware of the weight of his heart in his chest. It ached for Richie, for his home. He rubbed his knees and thought of the permanent scabs that lived on Richie’s knobby knees. That reckless boy never bandaged his cuts and scrapes and he picked at his scabs in class, his hands working seemingly of their own accord. Eddie always slapped his hand away if he was in reach, and he reminded him often, “You’re gonna get hepatitis from those open wounds you know, I’m just telling you-” He remembered wrestling Richie often, a tube of neosporin clutched in one hand and a box of band-aids in the other.

He missed him so much. 

He stretched his body, reaching for the digital watch on his bedside table. 1:04 am. 

Eddie pulled himself up from his seat on the floor and padded down the stairs carefully, he didn’t know this house yet, didn’t know where the creaky floorboards were. He thanked whatever God above that nothing happened to alert his mother. He made his way to the little phone table in the foyer and dialed the number he’d had memorised since he was 9 years old. He prayed. 

“H’lo?” 

“.... Mrs. Tozier, Hi, sorry to wake you, I know it’s really late, um is Richie there?” 

“Hmm? Richie’s not here, he’s at um… Eddie’s house I think. Staying the night. S’rude to call so late y’know.”

Eddie could feel himself staring dumbly. “O-ok Mrs. Tozier, thanks anyway, goodnight.” She mumbled something before he heard the line go dead. He hummed to himself, confused, Richie was at his house? Maggie must’ve been tired, didn’t know what she was talking about. Richie was probably at Stan’s house or something. He chided himself for risking making that long distance call, and for what, he didn’t even get to talk to his- whatever Richie was. He didn’t think he could dare trying to call again before the next weekend, and maybe his mom would find out that he’d made the call without her permission, and at one in the morning no less, and she would forbid him from calling next weekend. 

_Fuck. _

He climbed the stairs and returned to his room, he finished his letter. 

_I’m sorry for springing the L word on you, but that’s just how I feel. I wanted to tell you in case… you know in case whatever happened to Bev, and Ben, and Bill happens to me. I mean it. I wish I told you sooner. I have those pictures we took at the Aladdin, the day you felt me up for the first time. I taped them behind my bed, and I’ll look at them every day, and then I won’t forget. I look forward to your letters. Tell the guys I said hey. _

_I love you. _

_Eddie _

He slipped down the stairs and dug an envelope out of the box marked _Office supplies, _he sealed the envelope, and was very aware that his tongue was touching something meant for Richie. He printed the Tozier’s address on the front of the envelope, he had that memorized too, then dug in the box until he found a stamp. 

He kissed the stamp before sliding it into the steel mailbox on their porch, then silently ascended the stairs for the last time that night, or, he supposed, the second time that morning. 

He eased his door shut and flicked the lights off then on, once, twice, three times. 

It made him feel much better. 


	3. Chapter 3

Richie Tozier is an idiot. 

It took him a driving for five hours and stopping for grinders at someplace called Nardelli’s in Connecticut for that fact to actually reach him. 

The trip was not going well. It had taken him about an hour longer to get this far than it should’ve, goddamn leaf fetishists who came to see the autumnal New England foliage, and insisted on driving ten under the speed limit, thank you very much. He was hungry, and he had gotten lost twice, he’d been short at a toll booth and been forced to bang a uey and take some weird obscure route halfway through New Hampshire, and then swear to God the whole state of Massachusetts seemed to be under construction. 

And now he was at this godforsaken sandwich shop, and the girl behind the counter had straight up laughed at him when she heard his accent, which was ridiculous because Richie Tozier did not have an accent thank you. She’d giggled and _ mocked _ him when he’d asked how far it was to Hartford “Ayuh Hahtfud’s about an houwah away, you can get theyuh from heyuh. Don’t fuhget to pahk the cah in havahd yahd.” 

He frowned as she handed him his sandwich in a paper bag, he snatched it away. “This is terrible customer service.” He hit each ‘R’ extra hard. 

He sat at an empty table and laid out his map as he bit into the meatball grinder. It was only okay. It occurred to him then that he had no plan for when he got to New York. His parents sold the house and rather than find an apartment in Derry he just got in the car and drove. Idiot.

Sure he knew where he was going, the address he’d written on 96 envelopes and packages. He had no idea however what to do when he actually got there. He thought back on his frustrating trip. He’d never driven this far out of Derry himself before, only been out of Maine twice in his whole life, and that was just down to Boston to see the Sox with his dad. Maybe it was a sign, everything going wrong. 

It would one hundred percent be worth it if this trip from hell ended with Eddie in his arms, then in his bed, but he had doubts. It had been _ two fucking years _. Richie was definitely a different person, so it followed that Eddie would be too, and what if Eddie was now a person that didn’t love Richie anymore. He’d never written. The others had all written at least once. He’d already written a postcard to Mike when he’d stopped at a gas station in Worcester. It said “Wish You Were Beer” on the front and it had made Richie chuckle. Richie didn’t even have a postcard from Eddie. 

If he showed up on Eddie’s doorstep and found that he was unwanted, well Richie was certain he’d just about die. And then Richie started to think, who’s to say Eddie hadn’t moved in two years. Maybe he’d gone off to college. Anything could’ve happened.

Richie realized he was sweating and biting his nails down too short. He glanced at the clock and realized it was time for his pills. One Prozac, one Ritalin,_ one kiss. _The memory sparked something within his chest and he felt renewed. He had to at least try to find Eddie. He’d promised. He finished his grinder and made his way back out to his convertible. He thought this long drive might be it’s last, it was stoved up good. The car chugged to life and he was headed back on his journey south. 

The sun was setting as he passed through the Bronx, and the view outside his window became that of a proper city. He crossed the East River and found himself, finally, in Queens. 

Richie parked his car _ (not pahked his cah) _ at the curb in front of a little white house on a busy street. Richie was proud of the old girl for making it all the way there. He unfurled his lanky body from the cramped little coupe and took a moment to stretch his aching muscles. He checked his hair in the driver’s side wing mirror, adjusted his glasses, inspected his teeth. He then reached into the back of his car and grabbed the carnations he’d gotten at a florist after crossing the border into New York. He’d specifically asked the florist which flowers were the most hypoallergenic. He knew his Eds well. 

He took one last moment to steady himself before marching up the little walkway up to Eddie’s house. He rang the doorbell and waited. 

  


He waited .

  


He rang the doorbell again. 

  


And waited. 

  


“_ Oh for fuck’s sake _!” Richie spun on his heel, ready to march right back to his car, but the door opened right at the last second. His tired brain took just a second to register who was standing at the door, when it did he shoved his carnations behind his back. 

“Mrs. Kaspbrak. Hi. Uh… is.. I wonder, is Eddie here?” 

The woman in front of him looked a lot less intimidating than he remembered. She looked smaller, but he wasn’t sure if that was because he’d grown another five inches since he’d last seen her. She wasn’t frowning at him the way she used to, she was still frowning, of course but not with as much hateful vigor as he was accustomed. She looked, honestly, confused, and it dawned on Richie that she had no idea who he was. 

This was confirmed when she asked “Who are you?” 

“I’m uh.. A friend of Eddie’s… you know, from school.” 

She sucked her teeth and raised an eyebrow up at him. He could feel her appraising his baggy jeans and his _ Rancid _t-shirt, which frankly smelled pretty rancid after 7 hours on the road. 

"You don't look like a business major."

She had him there. 

"Uh. We went to Highschool together." Best not to lie, he guessed. 

"Hmph, well Eddie’s not here.” 

She blinked at him stupidly. 

“Um where is he?” 

Sonia sighed heavily, like he was bothering her very much. “He’s on a date and he won’t be back for some time. You may come back tomorrow if you must, but not between the hours of 11:00am and 1:00pm, that’s when I do the shopping, now if you please I am missing my shows talking to you.” She shut the door in his face. 

_ A date? _

Yes, Richie Tozier was an idiot. In all his anxiety from the last two years and the day’s drive down south, it had somehow never occurred to him that there might be someone else.

He slunk back to his car and situated himself back inside. She grinded back to life, reluctantly, when he turned the key. That goddamn_ Hootie and the Blowfish _ song was on the radio. 

_ Well there's nothing I can do _

_ I only wanna be with you _

_ You can call me your fool _

_ I only wanna be with you _

_ Yeah, I'm tangled up in blue _

_ I only wanna be with you _

Richie punched the stereo knob, killing the tune. He wished he had one of his own tapes to listen to. A nice angry song would do. The only cassette he’d brought along had unwound somewhere in Rhode Island and he’d accidentally snapped the tape trying to wind it back up. 

He decided to wait. 

He had waited two years, he could wait a little longer. 

Sure, Eddie might be on a date right now, but he had to at least try right?   


He’d come all this way. 

Richie, turned the key, letting his weary steed rest, his exhausted head thunked against his headrest. He would wait and see Eddie tomorrow. There was nothing else to do. 

He hummed to himself as he dozed off. 

_ Nothing I can do _

_ I only wanna be with you _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> D'you think Richie's a Rancid kinda guy? I had such a time trying to figure out what sort of things he would like in 1995. 
> 
> also my apologies to any New Englanders i may have offended in this chapter, or the last.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: for mentions of suicide attempt, mentions of drug use

Eddie slammed his bedroom door shut. Okay, more like, aggressively shut his door quietly. Slamming doors is not allowed in the Kaspbrak household. He tossed his backpack on his bed and slid his body down the closed door. He tucked his knees up to his face and sobbed. Frustrated tears darkened his khakis. 

Business school was brutal. God just bone numbingly brutal. He spent every day surrounded by Rich Manhattanite fundies who used their wall street father’s cash to buy themselves G-shock watches and Oakley sunglasses and slick little laptop computers and Cell phones, but they never seemed to use all that money to buy themselves a clue. He was pretty sure the guy that sat next to him in his Ethics lecture was dealing coke and he must be making a killing considering all these hyped up yuppies they went to school with. 

He could put up with all of this just fine if the course material wasn’t the absolute driest goddamn snooze-fest he’d ever come across in his entire life. He left school everyday bored out of his mind, and after a taxing subway ride from Manhattan to Queens, which sparked a miniature panic attack every time due to some unsanitary conditions he witnessed, and the thought of all the unsanitary conditions he didn’t witness. All he wanted to do when he got home every day was take a nice long disinfecting shower, and then maybe two more if it was a particularly bad day, then sit in his room and get absolutely blazed. 

This was an odd desire that he held, since he couldn’t remember ever getting high before. Freshman and sophomore years were, well, hazy at best. But Eddie knew himself and he knew how he was raised and he just wasn’t the type to go around smoking reefer like some, as his mother would say, _ no good hoodlum. _He didn’t know how he could crave something he’d never done before though. He didn’t know why, when mother and he walked passed a public park or some other such place, and that skunky herbaceous smell wafted in their direction, it made his heart flutter and his toes curl, it made his mother’s face contort with disgust. She would grip his arm and walk faster whenever she smelled that smell. 

As it were, however, he just came home and got a good sob in most days before taking his shower, then encasing himself in his room to work on his homework. He buried his nose in his books and prayed to himself that Myra Middleberry wouldn’t decide to make a call that night. He would not be so lucky this particular evening. 

Myra was the daughter of a friend of his mother’s. She was a little blonde thing, somewhat chubby, and full of anxiety, which coming from Eddie was saying something. She was cute enough, he figured, and nice enough too, he didn’t hate her or anything, he supposed that if she ever let herself relax she might be fun enough to be around. She was very christian and very sheltered, she’d gone to an all girls’ school all her life and Eddie was pretty sure he was the first human male she’d spent any time around other than her own father. He felt he needed to be very gentle and well-behaved around her. He didn’t like that, it reminded him of his mother. 

_ A foggy memory of hurling heinous insults, lobbed with affection, at some skinny boy with coke bottle glasses and a buck tooth grin, being anything but careful and well-behaved. _

He knew Myra had a crush on him. She looked at him with these puppy dog eyes all the time, always looking up at him like she expected something from him. She was shorter than him and he didn't care for that, her eyes always peering up at him, her nose sniffling if he didn't act the way she figured he was supposed to act. He thought of her like a child sometimes, although she was three months older than him. It was an impression that wasn't helped by the whiny little baby voice she put on around him. He supposed he was supposed to find that cute? Well he didn't. Myra talked about the future a lot, she only seemed to have this vague idea of the future as a place where she had more money than she could spend, and a big house in New Rochelle, and two or three babies to coddle. She didn't seem to have any concrete plans to get there though. She was going to Eddie’s school, he didn’t know what she was studying and he was relatively certain that she had no clue either. He supposed she was going pre-wed, just waiting to find a well-off guy to marry. Eddie knew he was the guy she had in mind. He wasn’t well-off but he did well in school, he likely would be well-off someday. He really didn’t want to work to achieve all that just so he could support Myra. He didn't want to work his life away at some awful job so he could buy her a mansion in New Rochelle. The thought of putting one baby in her, let alone two or three made his stomach turn. 

His mother approved very much of their “relationship” if it could even be called as such. She was always asking after her, “Isn’t Myra such a nice girl? Didn’t Myra look so pretty today, Eddie-bear? Myra’s such a good cook, she’ll make a great wife someday, don’t you think?” She was always giving him money and insisting he take Myra out to dinner, or to a show. If he refused the cash she launched into her well-practiced guilt trip about how hard she worked and how she was selfishly giving up her spare cash so that Eddie could enjoy his free time, and if he didn’t accept then he didn’t appreciate all that she did for him. 

So he’d take Myra out to the goddamn dinners and the shows. 

Lately she’d been slipping her hand into his when he walked her home. It made his skin crawl. 

Eddie was pretty sure he was gay. He’d never said it aloud, never really admitted it to himself. He just noticed guys more. He was always very aware of masculine features. Guys who were taller than him always did it for him, and things like razor stubble, big strong hands, chapped lips, short dark locks and heavy serious eyebrows never failed to set his heart aflutter. He liked that guys weren’t overly gentle with him, guys gave him shit, handled him roughly. Eddie liked that. Suffice to say, he liked Jared Leto way more than Claire Danes, even though Ma didn’t approve of him watching that show. 

He was surprisingly untroubled by the problem of his homosexuality. If he was haunted at night by thoughts of a lanky, rough, earthen smelling, dark haired boy looming over him and grinding his stiff long cock against Eddie’s thigh, well that wasn’t anyone’s business but his own. 

He figured he’d still get stuck marrying Myra someday. He knew himself and he knew he always took the path of least resistance. Hopefully she was at least sheltered enough that she wouldn’t ask for sex too often. And he supposed if she did, what was one more little pill?

Eddie knew a lot about little pills. He’d been dry swallowing little handfuls of them twice a day since he was little, right around when Dad had died he remembered. He figured the reason most of his adolescence was so foggy was because shortly after moving from somewhere in Maine, Eddie wasn’t quite sure where from._ It was some small town outside of Bangor, but the name couldn’t come to him . _They'd lived in Queens for just about a week_. _Eddie could remember sitting on his bed, looking between a black and white film strip in one hand and a bottle of his mother’s sleeping pills in the other. Eddie could vaguely recall his face feeling very wet, and his chest feeling more constricted than it ever had during one of his asthma attacks. He didn’t quite remember swallowing a heaping handful of the pills. He didn’t know what had happened to the film strip. 

He’d woken up in a bed in New York Presbyterian Hospital, three days later. He felt like dog shit, his mother was blubbering hysterically at his side, and like a phantom limb he searched for the memories of his past, he could feel the space where they used to be, but he couldn’t will them to the front of his mind. 

The pills had cured him of his past but they hadn’t cured him of the homosexual problem, so he figured he might as well just deal with it. If they couldn’t kill him then neither would dating a _ perfectly nice girl _like Myra Middleberry. 

And so he found himself walking home from their _ ugh _ ‘date.’ They gone to an Italian place near her house, he'd thought the cleanliness of the place was questionable at best, but it was her favorite place and Mother warned him to indulge her. She'd had a massive bowl of fettuccine Alfredo which literally almost made him gag. She slurped her noodles enthusiastically and he tried not to wretch. He picked at his salad and tried not to think about salmonella and e.coli poisoning. Somehow Myra managed to finish the entire bowl of disgusting creamy pasta in its entirety. She'd blinked up at him expectantly and cooed appreciatively when he picked up the bill. He wanted to go home and take a shower immediately. He'd waled her home then, she filled the silence happily, chatting his ear off about some girl she had class with, she didn’t like the girl, and she was detailing about a thousand reasons why. He wasn’t listening, he was preoccupied with trying to dislodge a fennel seed that had found its way behind one of his molars. He wished he had his fanny pack with his little travel toothbrush and floss, but mother had reprimanded him for wearing a fanny pack on a date. _ Nice boys didn’t do that. _Myra wanted a kiss when they reached her door. She always wanted a kiss. He gave her a loose hug and a pat on the back under the porch light and spun around quickly, heading back home before she could protest. 

He finally rounded his block and his house was in sight, he could see the lights were off, so Ma was probably asleep, _ thank God _. He thought he might get a chance to put on a little men’s tennis and rub one out. It had been a long week, he deserved to relieve a little tension. 

He stopped and noticed a red car parked in front of their dooryard. It was a real rust bucket, and it had Maine license plates. He was puzzled, they’d never had visitors from back home before, and he knew his mother wouldn’t associate with anyone that owned this bucket of bolts. He jumped when he saw movement from within the car. He hadn’t realized there was someone sleeping in the driver’s seat, head thrown back, dead to the world. The guy had rubbed at his face in his sleep, that was what alerted Eddie to his presence. Eddie stared. This guy was familiar to him. He was scruffy as hell, a five o’ clock shadow shaded the man’s exposed neck. His black hair curled around his ears, adorably unkempt. Thick glasses had slid halfway down the man’s face and rested crookedly over the man’s gaping, snoring mouth. Eddie wondered if this guy was homeless to be sleeping in his car in front of Eddie’s house. 

Eddie raised his knuckles and tapped on the car’s driver side window. It disturbed the sleeping man only briefly, his face twitched and his head lolled to the side, causing his glasses to fall off his face. Eddie knocked again, once more, with feeling.

_ Knock Knock Knock _

The man opened his eyes groggily and took in his surroundings, until his eyes met Eddie’s. He blinked, once, twice, three times, squinted his eyes, then found his glasses on the seat next to him and slid them back onto his face. He regarded Eddie for another half a second, then a whole body spasm overtook him and he nearly propelled his lanky body into the passenger seat. 

Eddie stared at the man, more of a boy really, had to be just about Eddie’s age. Wide eyed concern colored his face._ Who was this guy? Why was his heart pounding so much? _

The man-boy scrambled frantically for his door handle, it seemed to stick for a minute before he was able to wrench it open. The boy-man lept out of the car and drew himself to his full height, he towered over Eddie’s five foot, eight and a half inches, the thought sent a little thrill down to Eddie’s groin. This guy was... well he was sort of _ hot _. Bit of a spaz, and, judging from the intoxicating herb-y skunk smell that was wafting out of the car, he was a bit of a stoner too, but something about him made something in Eddie sing. 

“Eddie! Eddie, is it really you, fuck _ Eds _tell me I’m not hallucinating okay?”

Eddie gaped, “H-how do you know my name?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these chapters always seem longer in my word document. Let me know what you think, yeah?


	5. Chapter 5

Richie couldn’t believe his eyes. He brought a hand up under his glasses and rubbed the sleep away, just to make sure they weren’t playing tricks on him. He took in the guy standing in front of him again. Yes, that had to be Eddie. Different but still so much the same. Hair combed the same way, big brown eyes staring up at Richie beneath thick brown eyebrows. Thin lips set in a perpetual anxious frown. He looked him up and down, Eddie was still so compact and cute.Richie doubted that Eddie had grown at all in the last two years, but Richie had grown, and that made Eddie seem as if he’d shrunk. The thought made Richie want to just scoop him up and carry him away to the nearest empty bed. Richie smiled instead, noticing a familiar shape in the front pocket of Eddie’s Jeans. 

“Is that an inhaler in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” 

That got a reaction. 

Eddie was practically vibrating with offense. “EXCUSE ME? WHO EVEN ARE YOU? Why are you sleeping in your car in front of MY house and HOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME? You still haven’t answered that question asshole. What are you like a stalker? Huh? ANSWER ME! Stop fucking looking at me like that!” 

Richie was beaming. Eddie didn’t remember him and that seriously hurt, but he couldn’t be too bothered because Eddie was so much the same. Same fireball of rage that Richie had fallen in love with. 

“Chill out, Eds, fuck. I guess you don’t remember me? My name’s Richie, uh, Richie Tozier, we were friends back in Derry.” Sadness colored his face then, “I guess you didn’t get my letters.” 

Richie could see the gears whirring in Eddie’s head. “Derry?” He blinked a few times. “Is that- Derry, Maine? That sounds so familiar. I-” 

“Holy shit I can’t believe you forgot about your entire home town. What the fuck do you tell people when they ask where you’re from? Don’t you have, like, documentation of a thing like that? Your birth certificate? School records? Let me see your driver’s license.” He thrust an expectant hand at Eddie. “C’mon, gimme.” 

Eddie blinked. “I-” He pulled out his wallet and checked it, It listed his New York address. He showed Richie. “I had to update the information when I moved here.” He folded his wallet and slid it into his back pocket. “And how often do _ you _ look at your own birth certificate, dipshit.” 

“I’m not the dipshit that forgot the town I lived in for the first 16 years of my life.” 

Richie was living for this. He hadn’t been sure he’d hear Eddie call him a dipshit ever again. 

Eddie wasn’t sure why he was swearing so much at this practical stranger. He’d learned to be so mild mannered. 

Richie sighed and reached forward to grab Eddie’s hand. “Listen, let me take you out for coffee or something. I’ll tell you everything. I even brought pictures!” Eddie jerked his hand away, and Richie’s face fell. “Please Eds, we used to be best friends. I came all this way because I had to see you.”

Eddie didn’t often trust strangers. His mom said there were lots of sickos out there that would love the opportunity to kidnap him. Nevertheless, something in him thrummed. This man was familiar to him, somewhere beyond his own consciousness. A memory, forgotten by his mind but remembered in his soul. He could feel it in the way he slipped into easy banter with this Richie. He stared him down for a moment, making direct, intense eye contact. A thought popped into his head. “You got new glasses.” The other man- Richie’s face lit up then, and  _ fuck _ was it beautiful. Where had that bit of information come from, that made this man so happy? 

“Let’s get coffee.” 

Richie rushed forward, enveloping Eddie in a tight hug. So much enthusiasm radiated through him that he easily lifted Eddie off the ground. He tucked his face in the crook of Eddie’s neck, and whispered, “I missed you  _ so much _ spaghetti man.” He held Eddie for just a few moments longer, breathing in his scent. He smelled of lemon disinfectant and camphor, same as he always had. It was a scent Richie hadn’t realized he missed so much. Every memory of their childhood suddenly became more crisp in his mind’s eye. He wondered if Eddie could remember his smell too. His reedy arms began to strain, so he gently placed Eddie back on the sidewalk. When he pulled back, Eddie’s face was bright red, matching his jacket perfectly. Richie could remember that look of pure homosexual panic well. Eddie’s face was identical after their first kiss, the first time they traded handjobs, the first time Richie climbed into his bed naked save for his tighty whities. Richie felt his dick twitch in his jeans. 

“Don’t pass out on me Eds.” he teased “C’mon where’s good around here?” 

  
  
  
  


They found themselves at a greasy spoon diner a short while later. 

Richie insisted on driving there, and Eddies knuckles had been white as held on to the ‘oh shit’ handle for dear life. “I can remember you being a lot more relaxed in this car Eddie-bear.” 

“Yeah well I can’t so- and ew gross don’t call me Eddie-bear, mother calls me that. have you like, never driven in a city before Jesus fucking Christ. If I die in a car crash with some asshole that I don’t even remember I swear to god-” 

“So you graduated from calling her  _ mommy _ I see” 

Eddie blushed, “.....Yes.” 

“Your mommy was more relaxed than you when I fucked her in my car.” 

“WHAT!? That is SO FUCKING DISGUSTING! Seriously so gross asshole. I thought maybe you’d grown out of fucked your mom jokes but I-” 

Huh. a memory of having almost this exact conversation came over Eddie like a tidal wave breaking on the sand. An image of the man beside him, definitely a boy now, a shit eating grin splitting his face.  _ A peculiar feeling heavy in his own chest.  _

“I think I remembered something. You used to make those god awful jokes all the time. You used to be such a little pervert didn’t you.” 

“Honestly, still am.” Richie was parallel parking, but kept sneaking glances over at Eddie. “You never once laughed at any of my jokes and I loved you for it.” 

_ I loved you for it. _

Eddie swallowed the lump in his throat. 

He jumped when Richie abruptly opened the car door for him. “After you my dear.” 

Eddie liked this diner because it was the cleanest one he’d found in Queens. His usual waitress,  _ a woman in her late 30’s named Bette _ , was always sweet to him, but never flirted. He liked that. As soon as he slid into their booth, Eddie dug his remaining cash out of his pocket. His mother had given him $30 for his date with Myra, which now seemed like it happened days ago. He’d spent most of it at the Italian restaurant, but there was some left. He began counting out his coins on the Formica table. Richie reached across and placed a hand over Eddie’s. “Don’t worry about that Eds, it’s my treat.” 

Eddie felt himself blushing again, he searched for something to say but was interrupted when Bette appeared at their table, a coffee pot in either hand. “If it ain’t my favorite customer. Who’s this cutie you brought with you sweet pea?” She smiled at Richie. 

“We’re old school chums, Edward and I. I ‘appened upon ‘is doorstep tonight and ‘e insisted on treating me to the finest late-night fare in town, and so ‘ere we are madam.” 

_ Hm  _ Eddie thought,  _ His British accent has gotten better.  _ He blinked at the new-old memory 

Bette giggled at Richie’s charming little bit, then turned to Eddie. “I like this one sweet pea, you oughtta keep him around.” 

“I- yeah, maybe I will.” Eddie’s blush deepened and Richie’s foot found his under the table. Eddie pulled his foot back. 

“I’ll have a cup of decaf and a bowl of oatmeal please.” 

“No milk in the oatmeal, right hon?” She poured his coffee.

“That’s right Bette, thank you.” 

“And what can I get you sugar?” She turned to Richie. 

“Ayuh, I’ll have a regular coffee, a bacon cheeseburger with fried onions, french fries, a slice of that blueberry pie I see in that case over there, à la mode s’il vous plait, aaand a diet coke. Gotta maintain my girlish figure if I’m gonna find a man to marry me.” He winked at Eddie. 

Bette giggled as she poured Richie’s coffee. She turned back to Eddie. “He’s funny, keep him around.” She walked off to put in their orders. 

Eddie could feel the blood pooling in his cheeks. He fiddled with his fork, avoiding Richie’s burning gaze. The piece of silverware slipped out of his nervous hand and skittered across the table, clattering loud enough that everyone in the diner looked toward their table. Eddie was in hell. 

“So, Eds, I hear you had a date this evenin’? 

Hell. 

“How’d you know that.”    
  
“Your mom told me when we were enjoying a reunion fuck earlier.” 

Pure absolute hell. 

“Uh yeah, sort of- I mean, not really but- Myra’s really nice but I don’t- I mean my mom likes her.” 

Richie looked more still than Eddie could ever remember. Wait no, he didn’t remember, why couldn’t he remember what he couldn’t remember? 

Richie blinked slowly. “Do  _ you _ like her?” 

“I-She’s-” Richie raised one patronizing eyebrow above the frame of his glasses. “No, you know what, who are you to come into my life and ask all kinds of questions. Y-you’re talking to my mom and- and flirting with my waitress and you act like you’re entitled to know all about my life and like, I DON’T EVEN KNOW YOU. What you’re my childhood friend? Well guess what ‘Richie’ if that’s even your real name, I don’t remember you, okay, I don’t remember you because I took a bunch of pills and instead of offing myself they just wiped my memory, okay. So I really don’t need you coming here and bringing all this up because-”. A moment of self awareness interrupted Eddie’s hysterical monologuing. He was being loud, people were staring. Tears were rolling down Richie’s cheeks, and, Eddie realized, tears were rolling down his own cheeks. 

“You’re tried to off yourself? You made me promise not to- and then you go and- with pills? Oh Eds that is so on-brand for you.” A huff of dark laughter escaped him. “ You didn’t forget because of the pills though.” He lifted his glasses and rubbed his leaking eyes. 

“What? What the fuck do you mean it wasn’t because of the pills? How the fuck else could I forget all that shit, my whole fucking childhood prior to moving her is a fucking blur. Mom said the pills caused brain damage. Please stop crying.” 

“Fuck you, I’m not crying.” 

“Fuck _ you _ , yes you are.” 

They shot sloppy grins at each other from across the table. 

Bette arrived back at their table then. She placed their food in front of them, and smiled fondly as she left them to themselves. 

Richie tore into his burger. It was visceral and disgusting, but unlike Myra and the alfredo, this didn’t turn Eddie off. 

He stole a few of Richie’s fries. 

“If you wanted fries, you should’ve ordered fries, oatmeal boy.” 

“No, I don’t eat fried foods, they’re terrible for your cholesterol dipshit.” He stole another handful and popped them in his mouth delicately.

“I missed you so fucking much Eds.” Richie was grinning, but his eyes were glossy and wet behind his glasses. 

Eddie cleared his throat. “So why did I forget you, if not the pills.” 

The grin dropped off of Richie’s face in a split second. “I can’t say for sure, but it happened to everyone that left, all the losers. We think it has to do with the clown.” 

_ A flash of a clown rushing toward him, demented and terrifying. The boy to his left held Eddie’s face in his hands and turned him to look at him. “LOOK AT ME EDDIE, JUST LOOK AT ME!” A memory of feeling that he was about to die, but if he was going to die, at least it was with him. With Richie.  _

Eddie shivered audibly at the memory. “That fucking clown.” 

Richie perked, “Do you remember?”

“It’s like a memory of a memory.” 

Richie hummed before ripping off another chunk of his burger ravenously. 

“You’re much better looking now though.” 

Joy spread across Richie’s face, he smiled broadly, and there was food caught in his teeth, and it was  _ gross _ but Eddie didn’t mind, and that was  _ weird _ . “Yeah, well your mom thought I was smokin’ hot fuck head.” 

Eddie snorted at the other man, he was crude, and perverted, and absolutely ridiculous. He made Eddie feel more alive that he had in so long. “Listen, Myra, she’s not- I don’t- uh, let’s just say, she’s not my type.” He scooped a spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth. 

“I know spaghetti man.” 

Eddie smiled and looked up at Richie through his eyelashes. “I think I’d like to remember you Richie Tozier.” 


	6. Chapter 6

They sat in their booth for hours. Richie somehow managed to consume every last bite of his supper, a feat that both impressed and disgusted Eddie.

They talked for nearly three hours. Eddie told Richie all about his mother and how she pressured him into dating Myra, and studying business, and how she wouldn’t let him get a job. He talked all about his stupid yuppie classmates, and all the things he didn’t like about NYC, he complained about Myra again, and how she always wanted lobster and it was like twice as expensive in the city as it was back home. 

“Always lobster, Rich, twenty dollar lobster supper can you even believe? She sucks the meat out of a bug like she’s slurping up noodles. She’s always fuckin’ slurping. Lobster’s not even that good!” 

Richie chuckled, his tongue teased the end of his straw. “We used to go down east for five dollar lobster supper once bill got his license, do you remember that Eds? We used to go ham and you always turned green” 

“I think, I almost remember that. You guys had butter like dripping down the front of you it was so fucking disgusting.” 

“And you would only eat a baked potato and a side salad.” 

“Okay, they are like scorpions but underwater, which makes it so much worse, do you even realize how polluted the ocean is, it’s fucking gross man.” 

They laughed and at the fond memory. Things were starting to come back to Eddie in little vignettes. He could see the man across from him in his memories now. He could remember an awkward bespectacled boy that would become this man, but still there was a veil of fog in front of the memories. 

Richie told Eddie about his parent’s divorce and his awful new brother-in-law, _ Chuck _ . He talked about his Zaidie’s death and how it had been very sad but Zaidie left everything to his sister and fucking _ Chuck. _ Richie was pretty fuckin’ peeved about it, His Bubbe had promised him the house someday, before she’d died three years prior, but then Richie had always been her favorite. He’d been scared of his grandfather though. He talked about Stan and Mike, Mike’s girlfriend, Who they couldn’t talk about anything with. He talked about working at the Aladdin and his asshole boss Rand and saving his pennies to come to New York, and he talked about the drive down. “I had to go to Connecticut, do you understand me, Eds, _ CONNECTICUT _!” They covered just about everything Richie had written in his letters. 

It felt so good to catch up. Neither of them wanted this to end. Richie paid the bill, joking with Bette the whole time, who beamed at them both and kept giving Eddie pointed looks. They left the diner and sat awkwardly in Richie’s car as he tried to start the groaning car. 

“You know Rich, um we could still hang out, my mom probably thinks I’m still out with Myra, and she doesn’t wait up when I’m out with Myra. She sleeps like the dead, my mom. I bet we could sneak you up into my room.” 

Richie folded his arms over the steering wheel and rested his heavy head against them. He smiled fondly over at Eddie and spoke with a warm sleepy voice. It was past 1am after all, “I Know Eds. I used to climb in your window practically every night. I um- I didn’t like to be alone and- and you always acted so annoyed but you always made room for me in your life. I know all about sneaking past your mom.” 

“Then get this piece of shit started, man.” Eddie was blushing. 

Richie eventually got his car to start. They ground to a stop in front of Eddie’s neighbor’s house, two doors down from the Kaspbrak household. They walked softly through the back door and Eddie led him through the kitchen, then the dining room, and up the stairs. Eddie’s room was at the end of the hall, they held their breath and tip-toed past Sonia’s door, and that was it, they were in Eddie’s room. It occurred to Richie that this was much easier than climbing up the old tree by the house in Derry. Climbing out on a far limb then hopping from the tree to the bit of roof outside Eddie’s window. He remembered how challenging it was to do all that silently, while also being a 15 year old in the midst of his awkward, and lanky puberty. How had he done that so frequently? Why hadn’t he just slipped in the back door back then? 

Richie heard the radio click on and gentle music filled the sparsely decorated room. “So we can talk and she won’t hear us.” It was an old Madonna song from when they were kids. It was called something like, crazy for you, he thought. It was a romantic song and they were alone together and it was dark in the room save for a soft warm table lamp, and Richie was suddenly very aware of the blood in his veins and his hands by his sides. He shoved his hands into his pockets out of fear that he might reach out and grab Eddie if he didn’t. 

“I’m um- I’m just gonna change into something a little more comfortable if that’s okay?” Eddie turned away from Richie before disrobing his dress shirt. Richie couldn’t help but stare at the smooth skin of Eddie’s back. He could feel his blood pressure increase. 

Eddie pulled on a t-shirt then slipped out of his chinos and into a pair of grey sweatpants. Eddie did not look at his butt. He did not. Eddie turned back around to face Richie and god he looked good. Richie’s heart caught in his throat as he realized he recognized the t-shirt. It was a pale yellow shirt with a graphic of an angry car on it. Eddie’d had it since they were thirteen, it used to be baggy on Eddie but now it was so tight. It stretched across Eddie’s broad shoulders in a devilish way and _ oh fuck _ Richie was hard. 

“Make yourself comfortable okay, um- here’s some sweatpants you can borrow. I don’t know if they’ll fit but they’ll be better to sleep in than those jeans. I can lend you a clean t-shirt if you need one too, just help yourself to anything out of my closet, I’m uh, gonna go brush my teeth. I’ll find a spare toothbrush for you.” Eddie placed a pair of folded plaid sweatpants on the bed then backed out of the room. Richie realized that Eddie was blushing as he looked at him. Richie held his backpack in front of his pants. “I have a toothbrush, thanks.” 

Once Eddie slipped out, Richie shrugged out of his own tired clothes and shoved them in his backpack. Of course he had brought his own clothes with him. He didn't think Eds was giving him much credit. Still he pulled on the pants Eddie had given him. They were tight, and about four inches too short and exposed his ankles, but they were Eddie’s and he loved how they felt on him. He selected one of his own shirts though. He still took the opportunity to browse through Eddie’s closet, and joy filled him as he realized that he did recognize a good portion of the clothes hanging there. It reminded him that he and Eddie had not really been separated for that long after all. He dug his toothbrush out of his backpack and slipped out the door to join Eddie in the bathroom. 

They found themselves sitting cross legged, teeth freshly cleaned, on Eddie’s twin bed. Between them a stack of photographs. Smiling faces stared up at them, frozen in time. Eddie was fixated on a picture of Richie and him. He tried to marry the image of the scruffy man in front of him to the picture of the awkward thirteen year old boy in the picture. The boy in the picture had a round face, for the most part hidden behind coke bottle glasses which made his eyes_ huge. _ He had bucked teeth and an overbite, which his dentist father never bothered to fix. Pimples and freckles peppered his skin and band-aids covered his elbows. The photo caught him in mid-laugh and judging by the sour expression on the face of Eddie’s own counterpart, he’d just told some tasteless joke that only he found funny. _ God _ Richie’d been such a weird kid. Tears were slipping down Eddie’s cheeks. He was so beautiful. Both the man in front of him and the boy in the photograph. Memories were trickling back to him, ice cream on a hot summer day, skin brushing against electrified skin, carving a heart and the other boy’s initial into the kissing bridge and wishing so hard that it’s magic could bring them together. Eddie could feel in his bones that he’d had a crush on Richie back then. He still did honestly, the man sitting on his bed was so attractive to Eddie. 

He stuffed those thoughts down deep within himself. Just because Eddie was gay and was having gay thoughts, and projecting his gay thoughts on to Richie, did not a gay Richie make. Eddie didn’t think he could live with the impropriety of inviting a boy up to your bedroom, lending him your clothes, sitting with him on your bed, and then putting the moves on him. Especially since he’d only just met Richie earlier that evening. Well, not technically, but in at least one sense. Still it shocked Eddie how easy it was to let Richie into his life. How routine everything felt with him. _ It felt like old times _, he thought, but then thought again that how could things be like old times when he himself could not remember the old times. Trickles of memories and flashbacks notwithstanding. 

The radio cycled through hits of the 80's, romantic music, what Richie might call _chick tunes_ on another day. 

_I gotta take a little time, a little time to think things over_  
_I better read between the lines, in case I need it when I'm older_

Richie had been silently observing Eddie as he looked at the old photos. “Are things coming back to you?” 

“A little bit, a lot of memories of you. You were such a little pervert back then.” 

Richie smiled, “Do you remember anything about the two of us- together I mean?” 

“Um, I can remember that you always mooched ice cream money off of me.” 

“Hey you always offered spaghetti man.” 

“Yeah well I didn’t want your trashmouth licking my cone.” 

“You sure about that Eds?” Richie drawled suggestively. He stuck his tongue out at Eddie. 

“Oh that’s mature. I can remember you hoggin’ the hammock in Ben’s clubhouse all the time. I remember Ben. He was such a good guy. Do you know where he is now?” 

"Ben’s in Nebraska the last I heard. That was four years ago. Bev moved to Portland in ‘89 to live with her aunt. Big Bill went to Orono. Stan the man just started college in Albany. Mike’s still back home, who knows how long he’ll stay there, but he’s got the farm and his grandparents and his girl. I had to-I mean, I didn’t have any um, plans. and my parents, they sold the house after the divorce and I couldn’t stay with either of them and Mike, you know, he couldn't put up with me, and my grandparents are dead so no staying at Bubbe's house. I um, I didn't get into any of the colleges I applied to either, so I just didn’t have anywhere to go, I just got in the car and came here to find you.” 

“Why didn’t you go try to find Bill or Bev or Stan even? They were all closer than me.” 

_I want to know what love is, I want you to show me_  
_I want to feel what love is, I know you can show me_  
_I want to know what love is, I want you to show me_

Richie looked down at his folded hands. He studied them for a moment. “The other losers are great, Eddie. I love them all I do, but- Eddie I’ve thought about you every day from the moment you left. Everything I’ve done over the last two years has been in the interest of coming here and reuniting with you. I don’t wanna come off as too intense or anything but I- I mean you’re the one Eds. I wish you’d gotten my letters. Maybe if you had it would be easier for me to say what I want to say right now.” 

“I wish I’d gotten your letters too. It would have been nice knowing I had a friend out there somewhere.” 

_ A friend. Just a friend_.

“That’s cheesy.” 

“Fuck you asshole.” Eddie shoved Richie’s shoulder playfully. “I wonder what happened to them all. Your letters, I mean. That much mail doesn’t just get lost."

“Yeah, I know the address was correct because I managed to find my way here. Your mom probably burned ‘em all.” 

“Nah, she doesn’t get rid of paper. You’ve seen this place.” Eddie was referring to the stacks of newspapers surrounding his mother’s chair in the living room, and the mountain of bills that covered the kitchen table. For someone who was so afraid of germs and who craved control as much as she did, Sonia Kaspbrak was not all that concerned with keeping the house free of clutter. Of course that may have had more to do with the desire for control than they suspected. 

“Maybe she’s hoarded them away somewhere she thought you wouldn’t find them. Probably buried them in the backyard. Hid the evidence that her son was a qu-” Richie stopped himself. “H-hid the evidence that you had friends out there I guess.” We thought this was all the clown’s influence back in Derry but I don’t know if It can reach all the way down here.” 

“The clown’s influence?” 

“You know, how come all the adults in Derry are so fucked up. Why Bevvy’s dad was such a creep and I mean why your mom is… like that. That’s what we thought it was anyway. I mean my parents were okay but still they were so cold sometimes. Most of the time they’d be normal loving parents and then suddenly It’s influence overtook them and they’d be like strangers. Ma could be so cruel then. At the very best adults in Derry just seem to look the other way when terrible things happen.”

He thought of Betty Ripsom's mother and how she walked around in a daze after her daughter went missing.

He thought of his mother gossiping to Stan's mother about the situation after temple one time. 

The thought occured to him that none of the adults ever offered to help look for Betty Ripsom. 

“How could a clown corrupt the whole town like that.”

“How could a clown make you forget your whole childhood?” 

“So you think my mom is like that because of this evil clown.” 

“Who’s to say. Maybe she’s just like that all on her own. Maybe once the clown’s corrupted you for long enough there’s no getting better, even if you escape It’s reach. Maybe she thinks she’s really looking out for your best interests but she’s just misguided. I’m not a psychologist, Eds.” 

Eddie and Richie were quiet for a few long moments. All the questions of the night bounced around their heads. Filtered sunlight began seeping through Eddie’s window. 

“Maybe we should go to sleep.” Eddie suggested. “I’ve been remembering a lot of heavy stuff these past few hours and it’s giving me a headache. We’ll go to sleep and I’ll skip my lectures tomorrow and we can spend the day together.” 

Richie nodded then launched himself off the bed suddenly. He dug through his backpack for a moment then produced something from within, he held the joint out to Eddie. “Something to help us sleep?”

“Oh_ fuck _ I thought you’d never ask.” 

They passed the joint between the two of them until the sun appeared over the horizon and a warm haze overtook them both. Eddie felt more relaxed than he had in years, the sweet smoke enveloped his senses and calmed his whirling mind. They drifted to sleep eventually, both of them crammed onto Eddie's small twin bed. Head to foot. Richie's drug addled head swam in the scent of Eddie. His eyes fixed on the blurry image of Eddie's bare foot and furry ankle, up until the moment his heavy eyes succumbed to sleep. 

For the first time in two years Richie would sleep soundly. No nightmares, and no all consuming loneliness keeping him awake. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Richie tozier has ADHD and so do I.


	7. Chapter 7

Eddie awoke to golden sunlight, a bare foot prodding him in the face, and an insistent rapping at his bedroom door. He shoved the foot away and closed his eyes again. The rapping returned. He bolted upright in his bed when he heard his mother’s voice. “ Eddie-bear! You’ll be late to class! You’re not feeling sick are you.” He cringed at the delight that colored her voice. He rolled himself out of bed, careful not to disturb the man in his bed. _ Oh god there’s a man in my bed _. He picked a blanket up off the back of his desk chair and placed it gingerly over the other man before stumbling over to the door and opening it just a crack. He poked his face through the space between the door and jamb and did his best to look pathetic.

“Hi mommy, I don’t feel so good today, I think I’m gonna have to take some nyquil and go back to sleep.” He performed a few phlegmy coughs for good measure. Sonia Kaspbrak frowned at her son and clucked her teeth a few times. “ Poor Eddie-bear. Hold tight sweet boy mommy’s gonna get the thermometer, okay baby, you just get yourself back in bed, I’ll be right back.” She tottered off to the bathroom and Eddie flew into panic mode. He crossed the room back to the bed and shook Richie awake.

Richie startled and Eddie slapped his hand over the other boy’s mouth. “Be quiet dipshit, you gotta hide from my mom, get under the bed. Now.” Richie groggily poured himself out of Eddie’s bed then inched his way under it. Not the most pleasant way to start the day. Eddie settled back in the bed and under the covers just as Sonia appeared in the doorway wielding a bevy of various medicinal items. She popped a thermometer in Eddie’s mouth, poured him a dose of cough syrup, and began trying to apply vic’s vapo-rub to his chest. Eddie batted her hand away “I can do that Ma, okay, I’m not a fuckin’ kid.” 

Sonia made a noise that Richie listening under the bed could only describe as a hesitant tittering. Overly pleasant but a little bit shocked. “Oh, okay, yes mmhmm yes dear. I’ll go get you a hot water bottle, how does that sound. Mmhm okay mmhm.” She backed out of the room, leaving the two of them alone. 

“Well that was fuckin’ weird.” Richie voiced from his hiding place.

“She’s not used to me sticking up for myself.” 

“How are you gonna fake a temperature, Eds?” 

“I’m holding it against the light bulb in my table lamp.” 

“That’s my boy.” 

Eddie felt his face warm._ I’m his boy. _The blush would help with faking sick. 

Sonia’s heavy footsteps came back into the room. She fussed over Eddie for a few long minutes. She read his temperature and clucked approvingly. Sonia fussed at him some more until Richie could hear Eddie’s gentle protests. “Mom please I just want to rest, I’m all set okay, please mommy.” 

She cooed at him a few more times before retreating out of the room, calling over her shoulder. “I’m going grocery shopping Eddie-bear. Mommy’s going to get you some chicken noodle soup. Mommy’s going to make you feel all better baby.” Heavy steps retreated finally then.

They waited one minute, then two. Then the mattress shifted and Richie saw Eddie’s feet land on the carpet in front of him. “Alright, come on out Rich.”

Richie shifted from his position and began pulling himself out from under the bed. He paused for a moment. In the far corner under the bed he saw something, a glossy little black and white film strip. He reached out a hand and grabbed at the little piece of paper before extracting himself fully. He pulled himself up off the floor and found his glasses hanging off the foot board of Eddie’s bed. He slid them on his face and looked at the film strip. 

He felt his stomach lurch. 

He saw his own face staring back at him, and Eddie’s. They were lovers in these pictures. 15 years old and looking more like babies than Richie could ever remember being. It was the only evidence that they’d been lovers once. Richie had wondered where the film strip had gotten to. He remembered the day well. It was their first time going to second base, hidden away in the little photo booth. Their own private little corner, where they could be affectionate, could be themselves.

He remembered desperately seeking out these little hideaways all the time. The feel of Eddie’s lips on his was a memory that was burned into his mind. He remembered always hiding. Never being honest, not even with themselves. He remembered how he could never tell Eddie he loved him. Still never had because Eddie hadn’t gotten any of his letters. Now he was hiding again. Pretending to just be some old buddy of Eddie’s. Pretending like he didn’t love every fucking inch of the other man. Pretending like it wasn’t killing him being so close and yet keeping himself at arms distance by refusing to just be honest. He wondered when Eddie’d last looked at this film strip. When had he forgotten between now and then. What had he felt when he looked at those still versions of themselves?

How had Richie convinced himself that he would be different this time. Promised to himself that he would be bolder, that Eddie would never doubt his love, that he would pay no mind to the opinions of other people. How had he done such a poor job of keeping his promises.

He felt tears rolling down his cheeks. How many times had he cried in the last 24 hours? How many times had he cried thinking about Eddie in the last two years? In his whole life? 

When would he just be honest? 

Would Eddie still love him? 

He realized that Eddie had been chatting away happily for the last few minutes. He’d been puttering about the room, just all excited energy, like just the happiest little crackhead you ever saw. Richie felt his love for Eddie pouring out of him. Love and tears. 

Eddie did a little twirl as he moved from his closet to his dresser and back, selecting his outfit for the day. He noticed Richie crying after a few moments. 

He dropped the shirt he was holding on the floor and knelt down to look Richie in the face. “Rich? Why’re you crying, hey hey hey, don’t cry man what’s wrong?” Eddie rubbed his thumb against the hollow of Richie’s cheek. He rubbed away a tear. “Heyyy hey Rich, is it something I said?” Richie huffed out a laugh, because Eddie had made a joke. He sniffled for a moment and nodded shakily. 

“I’m okay. I’m alright spaghetti man. I’m probably just going to get my period soon.” 

Eddie didn’t laugh at his joke. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Yeah, yup I’m- I’m good. Let’s um, let’s get the day started.” He slipped the filmstrip out of Eddie’s view. He was fully aware that he was being cowardly again. He knew that showing him the photographs would likely bring the memories back to Eddie. At the very least it would say everything Richie couldn’t bring himself to say aloud. A picture’s worth a thousand words and there were four pictures on the strip after all. And then either Eddie would fall in love with him again or he wouldn’t. Then that would be it. Richie would have done what he’d come all this way to do. But Richie was not all that brave. He pulled himself up to his full height of six feet one inch. He looked at Eddie. Sweet, cute Eddie.

He smiled.

“I’m just a little emotional because I forgot just how much I loved fucking your mother, dear Eddie-spaghetti. Oh but having her in the same room with me brought back a lot of hot memories.” 

Eddie groaned. “You asshole. Don’t fucking call me Eddie-spaghetti you fucking asshole.” He stamped his foot and_ god _ it was so _ cute _. “Don’t make me fucking worry about you and then just- just- fine whatever, let’s just- uh.” He pulled his shirt over his head. “I’m just gonna take a shower, first of all, and then we can-” Richie stopped listening, preoccupied with the view of Eddie’s muscular torso in the golden bath of morning light. So much more a man now than he’d been the last time they’d been together. He had chest hair now. Richie couldn’t believe it. His head was swimming with too many feelings. He knew without looking in a mirror that his pupils were blown wide.

Eddie was looking at him now, and he was talking, probably yelling, but he couldn’t hear past the rush of blood in his ears. Suddenly, without even thinking, he realized he was rushing forward into Eddie’s space. He was kissing him. The sour taste of their morning breath mingled and their day old razor stubble scraped against each other's jaw. Eddie’s lips were just a little chapped from the crisp New York autumn weather, and Richie relished in the texture. He felt Eddie’s hands on his face. His fingers nudged Richie’s glasses and they tumbled off the bridge of his nose, landing softly on the carpet. His brain caught up with him after a few moments and he backed away from Eddie abruptly.

Eddie’s mouth opened and closed a few times like a fish. He made a series of shocked mouth noises. 

When Eddie didn’t say anything, Richie panicked. He pushed past him and ran out the door then down the stairs. He stumbled through the front door then onto the street. He ran, not caring at all that he was still wearing his sleep clothes, his holey t-shirt and Eddie’s too short pants. His feet were bare and little pebbles on the sidewalk made themselves known as they pressed into bare skin. What would soon be a little more concerning to him, however, was the fact that without his glasses, he was effectively blind.

But he wouldn’t think about that just yet.

For now, he ran. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some sexy stuff in this one, I prefer to imagine an aged down Bill Hader and James Ransone rather than aged up Finn and Jack. So that's what is described below.

Richie sprinted, block after block until he lost any sort of count he’d been keeping. The houses changed, becoming smaller and less well kept and bars lined all the windows. He finally came to a stop in a spartan little playground. It was too cold for little kids, so the only occupants were bored teenagers who had skipped class. They’d sneered at Richie when he first approached, looked at him like he was a crazy person and they ought to be distrustful of him, but they’d grown bored of him too after a short while. He bummed a blunt and a light off of one of the bad influence kids and laid himself down in the middle of the merry-go-round to smoke it. It did so much to calm his racing mind that he realized he’d skipped his morning dosage for the first time in over two years. His pill bottles were all safely tucked away inside his backpack in Eddie’s bedroom. 

_ Fuck. _

He laid there like a starfish for a little while. The cloudy sky above him rotating slowly as the aged merry-go-round squeaked and squealed beneath him. After a while he felt he had become one with the playground equipment. Perhaps he could just lay here forever, groaning and rusting and never having to go back and face Eddie. But no, he wanted to see Eddie. _ Why the fuck did you run away then idiot? _

He talked to himself. Why not he already looked crazy. 

_ Why the fuck did you kiss him? _

_ Because I’m in love with him. _

_ But he doesn’t remember that, you can’t just go around kissing people, what if he doesn’t remember he’s gay and he goes all like homophobic on us. _

_ You don’t just forget that you’re gay. _

_ Well he’s dating a chick _

_ He hates her. _

_ Now he probably hates you too. _

_ He told me he loved me once. _

_ That was then. _

He smoked the blunt until it singed the end of his fingers. The cold permeated his body, chilling him to the bone. He looked down at his toes. They were blue. 

“You’re gonna get hypothermia, you absolute dipshit.” 

Richie heard Eddie’s voice and whipped his neck around. He was standing directly behind Richie and he had to tilt his head back all the way to see him. He was upside down and blurry as hell but there he was. 

“You found me spaghetti man.” 

“Yeah I had to walk half way to Long Beach to find you asshole. What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

Richie pulled himself into a seated position so he could see Eddie better, but he remained in the middle of the merry-go-round, he felt protected by the handle bars surrounding him. Eddie was holding Richie’s coat and shoes, Richie’s glasses were hooked over one of Eddie’s thumbs. He had a very stern look on his face from what Richie could make out. 

“Why did you run away from me?” 

“You fucking know why.” 

“I don’t think I would be asking if I knew, dickhead. Why the fuck did you run away?”

“Because I kissed you.”

“Yeah, and?”

“You didn’t say anything. I- I fucking panicked okay? I thought I freaked you out, I thought you hated me, I mean, who the fuck am I to you anymore? I’m some random dude that shows up at your house and says ‘hey we used to be tight but a magic clown made you forget me’ and then on top of all of that I go and- and assault you. I just really couldn’t deal with the thought of you hating me, Eds. Do you hate me?” 

Eddie’s expression softened and he approached Richie on the merry-go-round. He blessed Richie with his glasses first and the world became crisp again. “If I hated you I wouldn’t have followed your dumb ass all the way out here I can promise you that.” 

Richie pouted. “M’sorry” 

“My mom is gonna come back and wonder where the fuck I went. I’m supposed to be sick, remember?” 

Eddie helped Richie into his coat, it was warm from Eddie’s body heat. It was divine.

“Right, I’m sorry.” 

He helped Richie into his socks next, they were a blessing as well. He could barely feel Eddie’s hands manipulating his frozen feet. 

“This is a big city and you just run off barefoot without your glasses, no money, no nothing. You ran right into South Jamaica, this is a dangerous neighborhood okay, you could have been shot. Here you are telling me how dangerous Derry is, my mom doesn’t even allow me to step foot down here, okay she let me live in Derry for 16 years.” 

He slipped Richie’s shoes onto his feet gently then tied the laces into little bunny ears.

“Eds, I’m sorry. I panicked. Fuck me right.” He smiled sheepishly at the other man. 

Eddie eyed him down, his expression showed that he was not at all impressed with Richie’s behavior. He dug around in his coat pocket and pulled out two pill bottles. He held them out to Richie. “These were in your backpack. I only went in there to find you fresh socks by the way, your old ones were like a science experiment. I figured you probably missed your dose, although I see you managed to find an herbal remedy on your own.” 

Richie ignored the comment on the ganja and accepted the bottles, popped the childproof lids and one at a time he dry swallowed his meds. One Prozac. One Ritalin. “Thank you. Really, thanks a lot.” 

“Don’t mention it. Where’d you get weed anyway you don’t have any money.” 

“That kid over there was feeling friendly.” 

“Oh great it’s probably cut with fucking fentanyl or laundry detergent. You don’t ever think about the risks do you?” 

“Absolutely not Eduardo.” 

They sat together in thoughtful silence for a moment before Eddie spoke again. “I liked the kiss you know.” 

Richie perked, “ You did?” 

“Yeah. I was sort of um- shocked I guess, I didn’t think you’d be- y’know.” 

Richie supplied the word.“Gay?” He’d never really said it aloud before today. When they were younger they had been too terrified to admit it to themselves. 

“Yeah, I thought, I mean you’re so masculine I didn’t think- I thought I remembered, you know, back then, but then I thought it was just wishful thinking. But then you kissed me and it was- It was so good, Richie, and I just froze up.” 

“I don’t think anyone’s ever described me as masculine before.” an attempt at laughter wheezed past Richie’s chapped lips. “I’ve gotten you know ‘flamer’ and ‘little fairy freak’ before, but not masculine. Anyway I wasn’t the one with the girlfriend.” He looked away from Eddie and picked at a hangnail. 

Eddie blistered, “I told you, Myra is _ not _ my girlfriend.” 

They sat in silence for a few moments, each of them making a point not to look at the other. Richie broke first. “So…what do you remember? Are things coming back to you more? We should probably get on the same page.” 

Eddie nodded before dismounting the merry-go-round. He extended a hand to Richie and helped him off as well. “Let’s walk and talk okay? I’m freezing my balls off here.” Richie stood and steadied himself on his still numb feet, Eddie didn’t drop his hand right away though. 

_ One mississippi, two mississippi, three mississippi. _   


Richie felt his hand fall gently from Eddie’s grasp. They started back toward Eddie’s house. They walked two blocks before Eddie finally said something, and Richie could release the breath he’d been holding. 

“I was- I was getting all your shit together to run after you and I noticed something on the floor by my bed.” He searched his pockets for a moment before producing a familiar film strip, he gripped it tightly in his hands and weighed his words before speaking again. “I picked it up and I looked at it and I swear to god some kind of flood gates opened. All of the sudden there were these memories of us together. All of the sudden I could remember the first time we kissed, and all the times you snuck into my house at night to sleep in my bed. I remember staring at you at the quarry and you always had those tighty whities and when they were wet they were just a little bit see-through. I remember making out in the back of your dad’s car and he almost caught us and we had to pretend we were looking for one of the spare toothbrushes he always kept in there. I remember the first time I felt your hand on my dick and it only took me a couple seconds to ruin my favorite shorts.” He chuckled at the memory. 

“Do you remember the first time you decided to defile yourself by giving me a blow job and I was a two pump chump and came in your mouth and you nearly barfed and then you didn’t talk to me for two days?” 

“Yeah, I remember. Ugh it was like battery acid.” 

“You flatter me Eddie baby.”

A blush colored Eddie’s cheeks. He’d always liked when Richie called him baby. It had been a rare occurrence, something that was privately theirs. He took Richie’s hand in his own. “Let’s get out of here okay. 

They made the trek back to Eddie’s house and Eddie didn’t unclench until he was safely inside. Mrs. Kaspbrak’s car was still missing from the driveway and for that they were thankful. They rushed up the stairs to the safety of Eddie’s bedroom Richie tripped over his feet and nearly took Eddie down with him, but he righted himself before any big catastrophe could happen. Once they were finally inside Eddie's room, Eddie locked, unlocked, and locked the door behind him, three times. He turned around and Richie was immediately in his space, pressing him up against the door. Richie didn’t put his lips on Eddie’s just yet, just shared his breath for a moment, hovering millimeters apart, the fog of their shared exhalation made Richie's glasses opaque. He pushed his glasses up on his forehead so he could look Eddie in the eye with no interruptions. Their eyes met and Richie leaned in for the kiss. 

Eddie pushed him back, his nose was wrinkled. “Ew gross you never fucking even brushed your teeth this morning, and have you even showered since you left Maine?” Although there was disgust in his voice there was a certain glint in his eye. He sauntered back to Richie and slowly unzipped his jacket, then pushing it off his shoulders. “I think we better hit the showers Trashmouth.”

Richie swallowed thickly, then in a whirlwind of flailing limbs, he disrobed. his clothes puddled in a little pile on Eddie’s pink carpet. He stood in just his boxers and his glasses and absorbed the strip show Eddie was performing. Eddie was meticulous, he took his time slipping out of each clothing item, then folded them before placing them in a neat little pile on his desk chair. Richie knew by the clever little grin on Eddie’s face that he was going slowly simply to torture him. 

After a long,_ long _ time, Eddie finally stood in front of Richie in just his jockey shorts. Richie had permission to look now, and he would take full advantage of his privilege. Eddie was a fox. He always, always, _ always _ had been but it was all the more apparent now on the other side of puberty. He was small but so compact and strong. His torso rippled with lean muscle, Richie could picture him doing his little exercise routine before bed each night, he wondered how many crunches had formed those abs. There was hair where there was no hair before, His legs were thick and well muscled and Richie thought they would look so hot thrown over his shoulders. He knew the front of his boxers were shamelessly tented at that thought. Richie was definitely a thigh man. He wanted to dive between Eddie's luscious thighs and _bite_. 

Eddie was watching Richie too, drinking him in, memorizing him. He was still nothing but limbs, but his shoulders had broadened into a man's shoulders in the last two years. His arms were strong and roped with muscle now and his legs were a mile long, but they’d filled out and were no longer the knobbly foal legs he’d had once upon a time. He was so hairy now, his chest was covered in masculine black hair that stretched over his soft tummy and disappeared into his boxer shorts. Eddie loved body hair. He wanted to drop to his knees and bury his face in the hair on Richie's lower stomach. This desire was so strong in him that he didn't entertain a single thought about germs or hygiene. He closed the distance between them and splayed a hand over Richie’s furry chest. He leaned forward and pressed a rough kiss to Richie’s neck before tugging his boxers down. Richie’s hard cock sprang free. It was long and veined and nestled in a thicket of black curls. It made Eddie’s mouth water. 

He wiggled out of his own shorts and tossed them at Richie, who looked like his legs were about to fail him. He breezed past the other man, clicked the doorknob into the unlocked position just once, then slipped through the door and into the bathroom. 

Richie was tight on his heels. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're getting steamy here kids


End file.
